Rarely does a cross country race attract national media attention. But last February's national cross country championships proved the exception, piquing the interest of even The New York Times. The sensational headline read, "He Can Serve, but He Can't Run." It told the story of Army private Joseph Chirlee, then a member of the World Class Athlete Program, who was barred from competing in the race.

Did he miss a mandatory drug test? Forget to file some crucial piece of paperwork? How could an American citizen, on active duty in our armed forces, be denied the right to run? Turns out, Chirlee got caught up in what his former coach, Lisa Rainsberger, called "a doughnut hole of a rule." In March 2010, IAAF passed a rule requiring athletes who newly acquire citizenship to wait two years before representing their country in international competition. The ruling affected USATF's long-held policy that an athlete must be eligible to represent the U.S. in international competition to run in any national championship.

Chirlee and other athletes born on foreign soil face obstacles their native-born brethren will never know. The path to citizenship is long, and the road to representing the U.S. even longer. There are detours and dead ends along the way, and too many setbacks and stumbling blocks to count.

First, they must navigate the bureaucratic maze known as USCIS (United States Citizenship and Immigration Services), where there's no clear "fast track" lane for athletes. While exceptional athletes may qualify for a special type of green card, Immigration Services won't, for instance, grant citizenship to an athlete just because the Olympics are approaching. The only way to become a citizen faster is by enlisting in the military; about 30,000 foreign nationals serve in the U.S. military, thereby reducing their wait time from five years to one.

But for athletes, as Chirlee learned, gaining citizenship isn't the final hurdle. A foreign-born athlete interested in representing the U.S. must also meet the eligibility requirements laid out by the athletic authorities. Only then can he officially toe the line as an American. Often, athletes like Chirlee find themselves caught between countries. A lucky few have found their way through the maze to stand ready to run for the red, white and blue this year.

NEW PR (PERMANENT RESIDENT)

The first step for any immigrant is to obtain a Permanent Resident card, commonly referred to as a green card. Whether through family, employment, or the lottery, a green card is, however, only the beginning. Runners interested in representing the U.S. must then wait five years--or three years for the marriage-based green card--before applying for citizenship. This process, called naturalization, involves application forms, processing fees, a criminal background check, an English speaking and writing exam, and an American civics test. Lastly, applicants schedule an interview, where they can be approved for citizenship, and later sworn in at an immigration office, or, if they're changing their name, in front of a judge.

Athletes who've represented another country, or who became citizens after March 2010, must then undergo another waiting period before they're eligible to run for the U.S., this one mandated by the international and national track organizations.

The basic stepping stones--green card, citizenship, IAAF eligibility--are the same for all athletes, but the length and manner of the process depend on each individual case. For example, Diego Estrada, currently a standout senior runner at Northern Arizona University, emigrated from Mexico at the age of 13 months. His path to citizenship has taken nearly all of his life. First, Estrada's father was granted amnesty after crossing the border illegally with his family, and given a green card. Then, Estrada applied for his own green card, from the family-based category of Permanent Resident cards. These are available to individuals with a close relative--typically, a parent, spouse, or child over the age of 21--who's an American citizen or permanent resident of the U.S. But the process for Estrada was neither quick nor easy.

"We were breaking the law by being here illegally, so we had to plea for forgiveness so we wouldn't get kicked out of the country," Estrada says. After a long waiting period, punctuated by frequent background checks and numerous processing fees, he was awarded a green card in August 2000.

Then, an impressive track season in 2011 left Estrada at a crossroads. He'd run the world championships "B" qualifying time for the 5,000m, and Mexico offered him the opportunity to compete in Daegu. Estrada was torn, saying, "I was looking forward to representing Mexico at a world champs, but when I got selected for Daegu, I realized that if I took that opportunity, I would have to sit out three years before I could represent the U.S. That's when I took a step back and decided to [decline Mexico's offer to run in Daegu] and start my citizenship process." Estrada became a U.S. citizen on Oct. 28.

Janet Cherobon-Bawcom, like Estrada, began her path to citizenship through a family-based green card. Hers, however, was through marriage. Five years after coming to the U.S. on a running scholarship to Harding University, she married American Jay Bawcom in 2005. She became a citizen on Nov. 10, 2010, and has since found tremendous success on the USA Running Circuit. She won the 2011 series by claiming victories in the 20K, 10-mile, and 10K national championships. Having never represented her native Kenya, Cherobon-Bawcom faces no additional barriers to running for the U.S. Next up, Cherobon-Bawcom plans to run the Olympic marathon trials on Jan. 14.

Next to family-based green cards, the second most common category of green card is the employment-based. There are five categories of employment-based (EB) green cards, ranked according to preference. The first preference, EB-1, is the most difficult to acquire, but the only one available to professional athletes. It's known as the green card for extraordinary ability, which is legally defined as "a level of expertise indicating that the individual is one of that small percentage who have risen to the very top of the field of endeavor."

According to Texas-based immigration attorney Steve Ladik, "The subjective definition [of extraordinary ability] seems to be getting more and more restrictive. The [EB-1] is really for the Albert Einsteins of running." It's not enough to be a good, or even great, runner. Athletes who qualify for the EB-1 must prove to Immigration Services that they're extraordinary.

Robert Cheseret (Bernard Lagat's younger brother) applied for an EB-1 after wrapping up his collegiate running career at the University of Arizona. He received his green card for extraordinary ability a year and a half later, then, like Chirlee, enlisted in the military to fast-track his path to citizenship. He says, "I joined the Army in 2009, and basically, I got my citizenship right away. I didn't have to wait five years [the standard wait for most green cards, including the EB-1] because I was in the Army." Cheseret became a U.S. citizen in December 2009, has never represented Kenya, and plans to run the 10,000m at the 2012 U.S. Olympic trials in Eugene.

Outside of family-based green cards and the EB-1, options available to foreign-born runners interested in becoming permanent residents are limited. Adriana (Pirtea) Nelson, originally from Romania, was one of the lucky few to win the lottery. Each year, 50,000 green cards are awarded through the Electronic Diversity Visa Lottery.

CITIZEN-IN-WAITING

Who can forget the image of Lopez Lomong carrying the American flag in the opening ceremonies of the 2008 Olympics? A former Lost Boy of Sudan adopted into an American family, Lomong ran the 1500m for the U.S. in Beijing, alongside Bernard Lagat, who once ran for Kenya, and Mexican-born Leo Manzano. Three naturalized Americans made up our metric mile squad, and Lomong, in particular, became the Olympic symbol of our great immigrant nation. He reminded us of the words that emblazon the Statue of Liberty: "Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free."

But that memorable moment in Olympic history might never have happened if Lomong had fallen under the jurisdiction of current IAAF policy. A new rule, the one that Chirlee ran up against, went into effect in March 2010, requiring athletes who acquire new citizenship to wait two years before they can represent their country in international competition. Lomong ran in the Olympics only one year after becoming an American citizen. Under the current rule, he would have been ineligible to represent the U.S. in Beijing, even if fully able to wave the American flag as a citizen.

The new IAAF rule applies only to athletes who haven't represented their former nation in international competition. Another rule, enacted in 2005, applies to athletes who have donned the colors of their native country--athletes like Adriana Nelson, who ran for Romania in the 2005 world half marathon championships, then became an American citizen last April. In Nelson's case, the standard wait is three years, unless both the former and current nations agree to reduce that wait to one year. Because Romania released Nelson from its federation, her wait was shortened to a year.

Both IAAF policies were initiated as a deterrent to blatant country-hopping, similar to trade rules for other sports leagues like Major League Baseball. For athletes already in a lengthy process of obtaining citizenship, however, it adds an additional wait. All told, runners may have to wait nearly a decade from the time they apply for their green card to the day they're deemed eligible to represent the U.S. By that time, they may very well have passed their prime.

The IAAF does allow athletes to appeal their two-or three-year wait through their member organization, in this case, USATF. IAAF will reduce or eliminate the waiting period in "extraordinary cases." Cherobon-Bawcom's was one of these extraordinary cases. John Elliott of marathonguide.com, which sponsors Cherobon-Bawcom, raised the issue to USATF on the grounds that Cherobon-Bawcom's citizenship process was delayed due to a couple of unfortunate clerical errors. Had these errors not occurred, she would have become a citizen before March 2010, and the new IAAF policy, mandating a two-year wait, wouldn't have applied. USATF appealed to IAAF, which waived Cherobon-Bawcom's two-year wait. Elliott says, however, that for most athletes, successfully appealing the IAAF rule is nearly impossible.

USATF's standing regulations mean that both the two-and three-year wait apply to all national championship events. Jill Geer, USATF's chief communications officer, says, "Our rules state that to compete in a national championship, you need to be able to represent the U.S. in international competition, according to the IAAF rules." As a result, athletes like Chirlee and Nelson, who are respectively serving a two-and one-year wait, are ineligible to compete in any U.S. championship. However, since their waits will conclude before the London Olympics--Nelson, for example, becomes eligible in April 2012--they're both eligible to run in the trials.

Elliott has been a fierce advocate for changing the USATF policy that applies the two-year wait rule to all national championships. He says, "I'm not sure how you can call something a U.S. championship and it's not open to all U.S. citizens. Eventually, these runners are going to be eligible [to compete in international events], so why not support them that extra year it's going to take? Why not let them be part of American running?"

Regardless of any USATF rule changes, many runners born on foreign soil will continue to be caught in limbo. They must hope that their eligibility comes through before the next Olympics. Otherwise, they'll find themselves watching from the sidelines or, if their naturalization process is incomplete or they have dual citizenship, choose to represent their home country and face a lengthy wait and possible criticism from their new countrymen. In a sport that many are drawn to for its lack of politics, these athletes' chances to compete in the Olympics and represent the red, white and blue hinge more on luck and timing than on talent.